


Constellations

by bethkamren



Series: Constellations Saga [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Based on a Lana Del Rey Song, Cedric Diggory Lives, Cedric Diggory-centric, Eventual Smut, Evil Voldemort (Harry Potter), Fred Weasley Lives, Friends to Lovers, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Love Triangles, Magic, Magical Artifacts, Multi, Mystical Creatures, Original Character(s), Original Mythology, Other, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Triwizard Tournament, Wands, Wizards, fred weasley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29550087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethkamren/pseuds/bethkamren
Summary: “I don’t get you,” he said, stroking her hair.“What do you mean?”“I just don’t understand you, not even a little bit.”“I’m not that complex,” she replied.“Am I?”She laughed.“Is it funny?”“Yes, it is.”“I don’t think it’s very funny.”“The reason our entire friendship works so well is because I understand you completely.”“Friendship? Oh, you’ve wounded me. I’ll never recover.”She leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose, leaving him with an answer greater than words.
Series: Constellations Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170977





	1. An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Don't upload my work anywhere else. Everything I've come up with is original and out of my own brain. Thank you for reading my work :). Have a great read! 
> 
> P.S. I suggest listening classical music while reading this. I suggest Les carnival des animaux les cygne. :)

Chapter 1: An Introduction 

On February 6th, 1980, a baby girl was born. 

That baby girl was named Tatiana Mirabella after nearly three days of deliberation by her mother. 

She was born to famous parents, you see. Her mother was English socialite Eliza Cameron and her father was French politician Luc Bertrand. 

They were also wizards. 

Capable of magic not accessible to the standard person, they were also in grave danger. 

During the time of their marriage, a malicious wizard known only as He-who-shall-not-be-named went on a rampage of terror. 

Because of their powerful status in both the French and English wizarding worlds, He-who-shall-not-be-named sought out Eliza and Luc’s approval, and much to his chagrin, they refused. 

The common knowledge to the public of Luc Betrand’s fate was that he was murdered by He-who-shall-not-be-named. However, that wasn’t the truth. In reality, Luc left as soon as the threats started to roll in. Luc Betrand abandoned his pregnant wife like a coward. 

And so, Tatiana Mirabella was born fatherless. 

She was also born with the same abilities as her parents, which warranted the need for a proper education. 

Eliza was in no way ready to give up her only child. But she also knew that if Tatiana’s abilities weren’t reigned in, they would grow out of control. 

Eliza settled on the best option: Hogwarts. She trusted the headmaster and  _ most _ of the professors there, and she knew enough people who had children Tatiana’s age. Tatiana would flourish there. 

Or so Eliza thought. When Tatiana was of age to attend Hogwarts, she made little friends. After being sorted into Ravenclaw, Tatiana found that no one wanted to talk to her. She was a loner, and not even by her own choice. 

Thankfully, Eliza pulled Tatiana out of school in her second year because of the series of petrifyings that went on. 

Eliza couldn’t homeschool Tatiana. She didn’t have the time or the patience. She also didn’t completely understand her daughter. Her daughter’s brain worked in a way that Eliza just couldn’t figure out. It was a completely odd experience. 

The best option was to send Tatiana to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. After all, it was where her father had gotten his education. And Tatiana understood and spoke French, so there wouldn’t be a language barrier. 

Still, Eliza had her doubts. 

She’d had an entire conversation about those same doubts. 

“What if she doesn’t make any friends?” Eliza worryingly asked. 

“She’ll be fine,” Eliza’s companion said. “She’s like you. She’s a people-pleaser. She knows how to make conversation.” 

“Not in French,” Eliza replied. “She barely speaks it, and only if she’s practicing it.” 

“You and I both know that she’s entirely fluent in it. And she’ll learn.” 

Eliza sighed, placing a palm on her forehead. “You’re right. You’re completely right.” 

Just like that, the matter was dissolved. Eliza now knew that Tatiana would do well at Beauxbatons. 

And she did. 

Tatiana completely flourished at Beauxbatons. After promptly being sorted into Papillonlisse, Tatiana made friends and learned how to control her abilities. 

By the second term of her third year, Tatiana was one of the most popular students her age. Girls liked her. Boys liked her. People, in general, liked her. 

She made very good friends with a set of twins her age, Marionne and Marcheline. Though the twins weren’t identical–– Marionne insisted her eyes were a degree lighter than her sister’s–– they shared an identical amount of adoration for Tatiana. Or, as they nicknamed her, Tati. 

“Tati,” Marionne called sing-songy. “Avez-vous entendu les rumeurs?”  _ Have you heard the rumors? _

“Non,” Tati replied. “Qu'est-ce que c'est?”  _ No. What is it? _

Marcheline wrapped her arms around Tati’s shoulders. 

“Des rumeurs idiotes,” Marcheline ridiculed.  _ Silly rumors. _

Marionne shushed her sister. 

“L’année prochaine, nous allons concourir dans le  _ Triwizard Tournament _ ,” gushed Marionne.  _ Next year, we are going to compete in the  _ Triwizard Tournament. 

Tati couldn’t believe it. It was, after all, a rumor. But it wasn’t like Marionne to be this excited over a rumor. 

“Just a rumor?” Tati said in English. The corner of Marionne’s lips turned up in a mischievous grin. 

“No,” Marionne replied back in a rumor. “I suppose I should practice my English if I want to go next year.” 

Tati’s mouth dropped. 

“Where did you hear that?” Marcheline questioned. At this point, they were no longer speaking in French. 

Marionne giggled, her black coils bouncing. “From Fleur, who heard it from Madame Maxine, who received a letter from the headmaster at the English school.” 

Marcheline sat down next to Tati and started combing through her hair. “J'aimerais avoir tes cheveux,” she lamented.  _ I wish I had your hair _ . 

_ She’s trying to change the subject _ , Tati thought. 

“Wait, what do you mean if you want to go?” asked Tati, who was completely relaxed by Marcheline playing with her hair. 

Marionne’s eyes widened. “It’s being hosted in England,” she answered. 

Tati felt anxious and excited. After, England was where her family was, at least the ones that were alive. It was also where her old school was, and a reminder of how she didn’t have friends. 

She wanted to go and she also didn’t want to go. Instead, she laid back and let Marcheline keep playing with her hair. 

“Puis-je faire votre maquillage?” asked Marionne.  _ Can I do your makeup? _

“Oui,” Tati responded. Marionne was an aspiring makeup artist. It amused her to play with it on other people, particularly new members of Papillonlisse, the three girls’ house. But Marionne, above all, wanted to practice on Tati. Tati never understood why. 

“I’ll braid your hair,” Marcheline said. “I can do a  _ French _ braid.” 

The three girls laughed. 

Tati would find out that Marionne was right. The Triwizard Tournament would take place at Hogwarts, and twenty Beauxbatons students would be chosen to go. 

It happened during the summer of 1995. Madame Maxine had instructed all students to submit application forms if they wanted to go. Only students with exceptional grades and exceptional talents would be chosen. 

Only girls were accepted. Out of all of the students, Tati, Marionne, and Marcheline were chosen. Other than Gabrielle Delacour, they were the youngest going. 

Marionne was very excited. Tati and Marcheline, however, did not feel the same. Though they were both happy about being worthy enough to go, both of them had social anxiety. 

“Why are you nervous?” Marionne asked, sipping a cup of lavender tea. 

Marcheline sighed. “You wouldn’t get it, sister.” 

“No, I probably wouldn’t,” Marionne replied nonchalantly. “I get you being nervous, but Tati, mon poupon, you are certainly not nervous here. Why is England different?” They hadn’t spoken an entire conversation in French since Marionne informed them of the rumor of the Triwizard Tournament.

“It’s just different, Mari,” Tati said. “I feel safe here. I never felt like I belonged there.” 

The Papillonlisse tea room was completely silent. 

Marionne nodded. “I understand.” 

“I am excited, though,” Tati said. “Also, my mother sent me a letter. And I have good news.” 

Marcheline and Marionne’s heads perked up. 

“What is it?” Marionne questioned, visibly excited. Even Marcheline showed excitement. 

“She’s received tickets to the Quidditch World Cup,” Tati said with a grin. Though quidditch wasn’t a sport Beauxbatons participated in, it was still a sport most students were passionate about. 

Marionne squealed, her eyes brightening. She leaped out of her chair and onto Tati, hugging her and kissing her. 

“Oh, chérie, je t'aime!” 

“Marchie, help me!” Tati yelled out, trying to escape Marionne’s smothering. 

Marcheline laughed, her head tilting back. She then followed her sister’s lead and leapt onto Tati, once again smothering her with hugs and kisses. 

None of them knew what was going to come. 


	2. The World Cup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my mistakes in the previous chapter: it is Marceline, not Marcheline.

#  **Chapter 2:** **The World Cup**

_August 1994_

Marionne and Marceline spent the summer of 1994 at Tati and Eliza’s Paris apartment. 

Tati had the most fun she’d ever had during that summer. She and the twins got to roam around and do whatever they wanted. 

She and Marceline would sit and people-watch while Marionne would flirt with adult men, presumably muggles. 

Marionne did it very successfully, and by the end of the summer had kissed nearly fifteen men. Even Marceline got to kiss a boy. 

Tati didn’t mind not kissing men like her friends. 

She did take up quite a few vices, though. 

Almost every Friday night the three girls would go out and go to clubs and bars and drink until their vision was blurry. Then, the next day, they would sit in a café and smoke cigarettes and down espresso shots. 

Each girl had their own vice. For Marionne, it was older men. For Marceline, it was expensive clothing. And for Tati, it was cigarettes. Particularly of the muggle variety. 

All the magic cigarettes her mother smoked made her feel weird inside, like she wasn’t even smoking anything. She liked the feeling that smoking tobacco gave her. It was painful, but reassuring. It made her feel more real. 

When it was finally time for the World Cup, the three girls were done with going out every Friday night. It made them feel mature and yet so young, but the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, and they had to become responsible. 

However, Tati did not stop smoking cigarettes. She knew it was bad and irresponsible, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to. 

“You have your bags?” Eliza asked the girls.

They all nodded. 

“Tati, darling, do you have the tent?” 

“Yes, maman, I do,” Tati replied. She felt her mother slightly wince at the “maman,” but Tati knew that Eliza understood that she couldn’t call her “mommy” in front of Marionne and Marceline. 

“Ms. Le Roux and Ms. Le Roux, are you ready?” Eliza asked the twins. 

“Yes, madame,” they said together. 

Eliza stuck her arm out, and gave the girls a daring look. “Let’s go.” 

Tati, Marionne, and Marceline grabbed onto Eliza’s arm and braced their feet. 

Almost immediately after making contact with her mother’s skin, Tati felt her body shift. It was odd. It felt like someone was trying to push Tati underwater. 

She had apparated with her mother before, but only over short distances. And she always had known where they were going. Now, she didn’t quite know where they were going. Tati knew that they were going to the World Cup, but that was about all she knew. 

When she felt like she was back on her feet again, Tati fell over. 

“Tati!” Marceline shouted, her brows furrowing. Eliza, who had her wand out, was enchanting Marionne’s wrist with her ticket. 

Marceline helped Tati to her feet and brushed the dirt off of her jacket. 

Tati looked at her surroundings. It looked like they were in the middle of a field, completely abandoned. Very far away, she could see the quidditch stadium. 

“Are we early?” she asked her mother. 

“Yes,” Eliza responded, “we’re meeting with your aunt.” 

Tati’s aunt Anastasiya was the relative she was most familiar with. Anastasiya was Eliza’s younger half-sister and by far the more reckless sibling. Although, if you had known them in their school years, you would have noted that Anastasiya was more responsible. And so, at some point in time, their levels of responsibility switched. 

“Come here,” Eliza told Tati. Tati walked to her mother and had her wrist enchanted in the same manner of Marionne’s. Marceline promptly followed behind her friend, and received her ticket as well.

After the three girls’ wrists had been done, Eliza enchanted her own wrist. 

“Where are our seats?” Marionne asked, pulling a broom out of her charmed bag. She handed the first broom she pulled out to Marceline, the second to Tati, and the third for herself. 

“Press your wrist,” Eliza said. “It’ll tell you.” 

Tati pressed her wrist firmly, and a diagram of the stadium popped up. A small section of it at the very top was colored bright red. 

“Is that the minister’s box?” asked Tati, poking her finger through the diagram. 

Eliza nodded. “Yes, your aunt is seeing the Minister of Bulgaria’s son. That’s how we got the tickets.” 

She laughed. “The one time your aunt’s endeavours have resulted in something positive,” Eliza chortled. 

She was the only one to laugh.   
In truth, Tati loved her aunt. She was fun and carefree, unlike her sister. She only smoked muggle cigarettes and only drank expensive wine or cheap tequila. She got free dinners just by smiling at the waiter. Anastasiya was an it girl, just like Eliza used to be. 

The three girls mounted their brooms, each one ready to zoom off into the distance. 

There was no countdown or “ready, set, go!” it was a matter of who went first.

Tati went first. 

She had always been talented at riding a broom, especially in a competition. The broom and her melted into one, and it was like she was flying. Like she had wings. 

Tati was going very, very fast, but Marceline was close behind. While most would assume Marionne was the talented broom rider, in actuality it was Marcheline. 

Tati looked behind her to find Marionne struggling to stay on her broom. 

“Mari!” she shouted. She was too late. Marionne was already falling. 

Both her and Marceline raced to get to Marionne before she hit the ground.

They weren’t going to get there in time. 

On the purest of instinct, Tati took out her wand and yelled, “Arresto momentum!” 

That was a spell she had learned at Hogwarts. Beauxbatons didn’t teach movement spells until your fourth year. 

Thankfully, it worked. Marionne’s fall slowed down until she was levitating in the air. Tati kept her wand up to hold the spell and let Marcheline go and catch her twin sister. 

When Marceline had successfully lifted Marionne out of the air, Tati put her wand back in her pocket.

The three girls floated down to the ground where Marionne’s broomstick was splintered in half. 

Marionne started to laugh. 

“It could be worse,” she crooned. “Remember the time Romilly Martin fell off of one of the ice sculptures in the dining hall?” 

Tati couldn’t hold in her giggle. Romilly Martin, a girl in their grade, had had the brilliant idea to climb on one of the holiday ice sculptures in order to make herself the focus point for the entire room. Then, she “accidentally” fell and made a seventh-year boy carry her around all day. It was purely for attention. 

“Are you ok, though?” asked Tati. 

Marionne nodded. “Just a little on the edge, but oh well. Let’s _walk_ the rest of the way, ok?” 

Tati laughed and linked arms with Marionne and Marceline. 

They started walking.   
“Ugh, I’m just happy Romilly’s not going next year,” Marceline announced. “Can you imagine?”

“Oh, I definitely can imagine a year without Romilly,” Marionne added. “Tati, remember the time she called you a _pute anglaise_?” 

“Ah, yes, English whore,” Tati spoofed. 

“You didn’t even do anything,” Marceline said. 

“No, remember, you were the first to conjure a flower charm, before she could,” Marionne acknowledged. 

There were a lot of reasons the girls didn’t like Romilly Martin. Her calling Tati an English whore was just the tip of the iceberg. In truth, she had been making rude comments and racist remarks to the Le Roux twins since childhood. She was a year older than the girls and about ten times as mean. 

“Let’s not talk about her anymore,” Tati said. 

“What should we talk about?” Marceline asked the group. Their arms were still linked and they were still trekking to the stadium. 

“We can talk about your aunt, Tati,” Marionne said. Marionne was just as enchanted with Anastasiya Cameron as everyone else was. She’d never even met the woman, but she had heard almost everything there was. Or, at least, everything Tati knew. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Tati said, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Yes, there is! Did you hear what your maman said about her dating the Bulgarian minister’s son?!” Marionne exclaimed. 

Anastasiya had had her fair share of suitors. Aurors, professors, muggles. She’d never dated someone that close to power before. It was a big thing for every Cameron. It also meant that this relationship was special… something new for Tati’s aunt. 

“Do you think she’s engaged?” Marionne questioned. “Or pregnant? Or broke?” 

“You _know_ she’s not broke,” interjected Tati. The Cameron family fortune assured that its heirs would live luxuriously for generations. 

“So you’re saying she’s pregnant or engaged?” Marionne bubbled. 

“No, what I’m saying is I don’t know anything yet.” 

Before Marionne could respond, Eliza Cameron apparatated in front of the girls, stopping them in their tracks. 

“You’re taking too long,” Eliza said sternly. She grabbed onto Tati’s hand, apparating them closer to the stadium. Because the girls had their arms linked, they apparated all at once. 

Tati didn’t have time to prepare herself. To stop herself from keeling over and vomiting, she locked her knees and clenched her fists. 

It stopped her nausea, but it made her faint. 

Fainting wasn’t something new to Tati; she’d had fainting spells ever since she could remember. Eliza blamed these events on anemia, which was the most likely answer. 

Still, fainting was a scary experience. Tati could tell she was still awake, but she couldn’t hear or see or talk or move. All of her senses except consciousness were gone, and she was left in fear. 

She knew she would wake up, and that she would be alright, but her fear didn’t go away.

 _I wonder where my mother is_ , she thought.

“She’s right here,” a voice called to her. She could hear! Could her mother read her thoughts?

She opened her eyes and looked up to find her mother. 

“Oh mon Dieu,” Marceline said, who was standing to the right of her. 

Tati was in someone’s arms. She didn’t know who, but they were strong. 

“What did you say?” Tati asked, looking at her mother. 

Eliza blinked. 

“I said, ‘she’s right here’,” Marionne responded, her cheeks flushed. 

“Oh,” Tati said, closing her eyes. 

“Put her down now, Cedric,” another voice said. 

_Cedric?_ Tati thought. 

“I don’t even think she can stand, Dad,” the person holding her said. 

Tati opened her eyes again and found her surrounded by a bunch of people. Including Marionne, Marceline, and Eliza, there were eleven people around her. 

She pushed herself out of the person’s arms and onto her feet. She wobbled a bit, but Marionne and Marceline grabbed her waist and supported her. 

“Proved you wrong, eh Ced?” one redhead said smugly. 

“I’m sorry,” Tati murmured.

“Nothing to apologize about,” someone said. Tati turned to glance at the person who said it. 

It was a very, very attractive boy. He was around Tati’s age but almost a foot taller. He had golden brown hair and deep blue eyes. His jaw was strong and his features fit perfectly into his bone structure. 

“Well, I’m still sorry,” Tati replied. 

“I’m Cedric,” the boy said. 

“I’m, Amos, Cedric’s father,” an older man to the left of Cedric said. 

“I’m Arthur Weasley,” an older redhead introduced. “These are my children, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny. And their friends Harry and Hermione.” 

Tati took note of everyone’s names in her head. Harry wore glasses, Hermione had curly brown hair, Ginny was the only ginger girl, Ron was the shortest redhead, Fred and George, respectively, had different noses, Arthur was the oldest redhead, Amos was the other older man, and Cedric was the attractive one with strong arms. Not that the rest of them weren’t attractive, but Tati needed an attribute for each name. 

“I’m Marionne,” said Marionne with a sly smile. “This is my sister, Marceline.” 

“You must be Tati,” Arthur said. 

Tati nodded. She was quite at a loss for words. 

“Sorry, Arthur, but we’re meeting with my sister,” Eliza said, guiding Tati’s 

shoulders. 

“In the minister’s box? That’s where we’re seated,” Cedric said without a pause. 

“Yes,” Marionne replied. 

Tati was silent. She didn’t know whether or not to speak. Frankly, she didn’t 

know what to say. 

“Should you walk with us?” Marionne asked Cedric. 

“Yes,” Cedric immediately responded. He wasn’t responding to Marionne, however. He was staring directly at Tati. 

Her stomach churned. She was trying to process all this new info she had received. Keyword: “trying.” 

Tati’s mother marched forward at an alarming pace. 

_How does my mother already know these people?_ Tati thought. 

Tati did know some of these people, like Harry, Ron and Hermione, because during her brief stint at Hogwarts, they had been in her year. 

Marceline, noting Tati was deep in thought, grabbed her waist and walked her along. 

“He’s staring at you,” Marcheline whispered. 

“Who?” Tati whispered back, her train of thought now lost. 

“Cedric,” Marceline answered in a strained, hushed voice. 

To not give away her looking, Tati’s eyes swept the entire group before landing on Cedric’s. It was true, he was staring directly at her. It was a ruggish, charming stare. 

Not to Tati, however. 

Truthfully, almost everyone in the group was staring at her. Everyone except Marionne, who was attempting to start a conversation with Fred.

It made Tati feel sick to her stomach. If she were Marionne, this would be a good thing. She was used to Marionne and even Marceline getting the attention from boys. By all standards, they were beautiful. They had full lips and deep set eyes. Their teeth were straight and perfectly white. 

Everyone had always stared at them. How lucky to have two of the most attractive people! If Marionne was engaged with someone else, you could always go talk to Marionne. The only difference would be their personalities, which don’t typically matter to men. 

Tati hated it. Some part of her, a deep, hidden part of her, liked it. But the rest of her despised it. It made her feel outlandish, freakish. 

“Am I a freak?” she blurted rather loudly. 

“No,” Marceline answered. “If you were asking me. But I am your best friend, and honorary sister, so my answer may be biased.” 

“You’re not a freak,” a voice behind her said.   
She turned to look. 

It was Cedric. 

Her heart started to beat incredibly fast. 

She was anxious. Incredibly, incredibly anxious. Her anxiety had never been this bad before. 

She felt like she was drowning. Not a slow, painful drowning, but a quick and forced one. It felt like she couldn’t breathe. 

Well, she couldn’t. 

She wasn’t going to say anything to Cedric. It would be better to ignore him completely. 

That was Tati’s solution to anytime she felt uncomfortable. To attempt to forget the problem existed. That was what she had done when she left Hogwarts, and that was what she was doing now. 

“What school do you go to?” Cedric asked, trying to keep up with Tati, who was nearly speed walking. 

“We go to Beauxbatons,” Marionne answered for Tati. Marionne understood that Tati was uncomfortable and seized the opportunity to talk to the handsome Cedric. 

“That’s unfortunate,” he said. 

“Well, actually-” 

“Mari!” Tati hushed, trying not to keep Marionne from spreading gossip. Though the news of the Triwizard Tournament was hardly gossip, it was still supposed to be kept tightly under wraps. In fact, Tati hadn’t even told her mother. 

Marionne giggled, bumping into Cedric as she did. 

Cedric, without even a flicker of thought, pushed Marionne off of his body. She didn’t fall, but she did stumble back. Tati rushed to her, grabbing her hand and walking with her. 

Tati was extremely loyal when it came to her friends. She would do anything for them, and they would do anything for her. 

Well, not anything. No snakes, no drugs, no boys. Snakes were Marionne’s fear, drugs were Marceline’s, and boys were Tati’s. 

She had heard awful stories about men and boys from her mother, and she had witnessed her aunt get mistreated by men her entire life. Abuse, rape, manipulation. Every evil and terrible trick in the book. Men had copies upon copies of that book, and that scared Tati. 

Her worst nightmare was being hurt at the hands of someone she loved. 

So she had the ultimate trust in Marionne and Marceline, more than anyone else.   
“Vous pouvez l'avoir,” Marionne whispered into Tati’s ear. _You can have him._

“Je ne veux pas de lui,” Tati whispered back. _I don’t want him._ It was true, she didn’t want him, not even in the slightest. Though she suspected he had a charm on girls, it wasn’t working on her. 

They walked all the way to the stadium, and then all the way to the top, where the minister’s box was located. 

Wearing a red sundress and talking to the Bulgarian Minister was none other than Anastasiya Cameron.

Tati couldn’t help herself. She ran up to Anastasiya, hugging her from behind. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Anastasiya exclaimed. She turned around and lifted Tati up off of the floor. 

“My favorite niece!” Anastasiya teased. She put Tati down, smoothing her hair. 

Eliza walked up to her sister and gave her a warm hug. 

“And my _least_ favorite sister,” Anastasiya joked, her long dark hair swinging back and forth. 

Tati looked like a pixie standing next to the Amazonian warriors that were the Cameron sisters. Their good looks and long legs labeled them as related, though they didn’t necessarily resemble each other. 

“You remember Marionne and Marceline, my friends,” Tati introduced, gesturing for the twins to step forth and see Anastasiya in all her glory. 

Anastasiya nodded and smiled, her teeth glistening. 

“The Minister,” Anastasiya said to Eliza. 

Eliza gave her daughter an apologetic look. 

Tati turned to Marionne, whose expression was that of awe. 

“I want to be her,” Marionne whispered. 

“You never told us how tall your aunt was,” Marceline said. 

“I said she was a little bit taller than my mother,” Tati replied. “I didn’t say by how much.” 

“She must be at least two meters tall,” Marceline guessed. 

“One point eight,” Tati corrected. Tati herself was one point five and a half, which was a fact that made her squirm. 

Tati didn’t resemble her mother in the slightest. Her mother had dark hair and brown eyes, with strong features. Eliza was tall and thin, and always found clothes in her size. Tati had medium brown hair and stark blue eyes, with soft features. She was short and relatively curvy, and could never find clothes that fit her. She was almost the exact opposite of her mother, and that made her upset. Tati only wanted to be like her. 

Tati could feel the heat of someone staring at her on the back of her neck. 

“Is someone staring at me?” she asked Marceline. 

Marceline briefly turned around. “Yes.” 

“Who is it?” she wondered. 

“Cedric,” Marceline whispered as she leaned into Tati’s ear. 

Tati groaned. No one had ever stared at her before, so why was someone doing it now. 

Marionne took Tati’s cues. 

“I’ll go flirt,” she said, winking. 

“Is there someone wrong with me?” Tati asked, pressing her fingers against her face, trying to find an imperfection. 

“No,” Marceline said frankly, “you’re just beautiful.” 

“Je t’aime, Marceline,” Tati gushed. 

“Je t’aime aussi, Tatiana,” Marceline replied, grinning. 

Tati watched the game, cheering when Bulgaria scored a goal. 

“You like quidditch?” someone asked her. 

She turned to see who it was and saw it was Cedric. 

Tati turned her head back to the game. 

“Oh come on, you’re not going to ignore me, are you? Well, I sincerely apologize if I’ve done something to offend you, but it’s in my memory that I haven’t,” Cedric quipped. 

Tati rolled her eyes. “Does that wit work on everyone else?” she quipped back. 

“Yes, actually it does,” Cedric replied, smirking. 

“I think it’s insufferable,” Tati said, crossing her arms. She was partly joking, but she wasn’t sure if Cedric knew that or not. 

“No, what’s truly insufferable is how bad Bulgaria is losing,” remarked Cedric. 

“Now I _do_ have a reason for ignoring you,” Tati replied with distaste. 

Cedric blinked. “What is it?” 

He was completely oblivious. 

“You insulted my preferred team,” Tati answered, her full lips puckered. 

Cedric looked even more confused. “I thought you liked Bulgaria. Because of

your family, or something.” 

Tati was lying. Bulgaria was her favorite team, but Cedric didn’t need to know that. 

“You don’t know me,” she responded, ending the conversation. 

  
  


When the game was over, and Bulgaria had lost, Tati, Marionne, Marceline, and Eliza sullenly marched their way back to their tent. The tent had been set up by Eliza’s assistant, Natalie, so they didn’t have to worry about doing any work. 

Their tent was the farthest from the stadium to allow for privacy. 

“We’re almost there, girls,” Eliza announced. “Slot number six thousand and fourteen.” 

Tati was unbelievably tired. She’d had a long day. She woke up with a pulsing headache, and just the day before she had gotten her first period. And because the girls had spent the entire summer together, Marionne and Marceline had gotten theirs too. 

“Oh mon Dieu, I want to sleeeeep,” Marionne exclaimed. 

“I feel _amazing_ ,” Tati said sarcastically. 

They both looked to Marceline, who was unbelievably silent. 

“What?” Marceline asked. Her cheeks had been flushed with a dark crimson red, and they had been like that for hours. 

“Nothing,” Tati said, laying her eyes upon slot number six thousand and fourteen.

She ran inside, collapsing onto the couch. Their tent was on the more lavish side, with two stories and a complete sitting room. 

“I’ll make tea,” Marceline said. 

Before Tati could hear anything else, she was fast asleep. 

  
  


She woke, however, to the sound of screams. 

There was a silencing charm on the tent. She shouldn’t have been able to hear screams. 

She went to get up and investigate, but someone’s arms were around her.

Tati recognized them as her mother’s. 

“The bathroom,” she whispered into her daughter’s ear. “Go. Now.” 

She ran to the bathroom upstairs and found Marionne and Marceline sitting in the bathtub. 

Marionne grabbed Tati’s arm, pulling her into the bathtub right in the middle of her and Marceline. 

“Death Eaters,” Marceline whispered. “They attacked.” 

“My mother,” Tati whimpered softly. “She went out there.” 

She was crying. 

Tati let out a muffled sob. 

Marceline was gently cradling Tati’s face, and Tati found relief in crying on Marceline’s shoulder. 

Marionne rested her own head on Tati’s shoulder, connecting the girls and forming one long chain. 

Tati put the back of her hand over her mouth to stop her from crying too loudly. 

Marceline pulled out her wand. “Muffliato,” she said, enchanting the room. 

She held Tati’s face gently, caressing her skin. 

“It’ll be alright,” Marceline reassured softly. “I promise. Your mother is strong. She won’t get hurt.”

Tati nodded, her eyes red and puffy. 

Marionne took a handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed at Tati’s tears. 

“We’re here for you, mon amour,” Marionne whispered, her doe eyes tainted with kindness. 

And with that, Tati was completely and totally calm.


End file.
